Chapter 40: Auspicious Signs from the Ancestral Tomb

"Second Uncle, are you heading out to the fields?"

"This is my brother Shen's car. He just got back from Xiangxiang City and plans to stay in the hometown for a while."

"Is that so? I knew since childhood that Brother Shen would make it."

"Auntie, have you eaten?"

"I just did. Went to town with Brother Shen and had lamb spine hotpot—ate so much I'm stuffed."

"You forgot, this is Shen He from Second Uncle's family, my brother Shen."

"..."

As soon as they entered the village, Shen Dali sat in the passenger seat, rolled down the window, and began chatting with the elders at the information hub at the village entrance. Shen He deliberately slowed the car so he could exchange a few more words.

Once home, Shen He parked the car in the garage. Then, carrying the bottle of wine he'd bought from the restaurant, he walked toward his family's land.

He'd been lucky in recent years; when the land was redistributed, the plot with the Shen family ancestral grave ended up in his possession.

Shen Dali followed Shen He, leading him toward the fields. The corn was now as tall as a person, and he worried Shen He wouldn't recognize their land and might go astray. After all, during the years Shen He was away, Shen Dali's family had been farming it for him, at a friendly rate of a hundred yuan per acre per year. The main thing was not to let good land go to waste.

Suddenly, Shen Dali spotted wisps of blue smoke rising from a patch of corn not far away. He cried out in alarm, "Brother Shen, there's smoke coming from your ancestral grave!"

Shen He was taken aback, then exclaimed, "Damn, it really is smoking!"

Both rushed toward the cornfield. Shen He moved quickly, darting into the corn and sprinting toward the ancestral grave. As he arrived, he saw several men squatting nearby, smoking.

When they saw Shen He, the smokers froze for a moment, and the atmosphere became awkward.

After a moment, one of the men stood up and offered a cigarette. "Hey, brother, want one?"

Just then, Shen Dali arrived, hurried and breathless. Seeing the men, he frowned.

"Aren't you from that film crew nearby? What are you doing here?"

"Smoking in a cornfield—what were you thinking?"

The men blushed at his words. The one offering the cigarette responded awkwardly, "We just wanted a quiet spot to rest for a bit."

Another chimed in, "Too many actresses in the crew, it's noisy."

Shen Dali frowned. "You can't smoke here! And on someone else's grave, no less! What, are you planning to use cigarettes as incense?"

Shen He coughed lightly at these words. He pointed to the three cigarettes burning on the grave mound. "They already have, but my family doesn't smoke."

At this, the men looked even more embarrassed. They'd only wanted a quiet place for a smoke and a rest, but now they'd been caught by the owner.

The leader said, "Sorry, we'll leave right away." With that, he hurried off, taking the others with him.

Seeing this, Shen Dali said, "Brother Shen, since you've found the place, I'll head back now. I'll come find you later."

Shen He waved him off.

Once Shen Dali left, Shen He sat by the grave, opened the bottle of wine, broke off a corn stalk, and drew a circle in front of the grave. As he poured wine into the circle, he muttered to himself, recounting the events of the past few years in brief.

It took a long time, but when he finished, he felt as though a weight had been lifted—a lightness came over him.

By the time Shen He emerged from the cornfield, it was already four in the afternoon. In the distance, there was a clamor of voices.

He turned and saw the film crew Shen Dali had mentioned—they were now working, with many villagers gathered around to watch. He didn't know what kind of drama they were filming, coming all the way out here; it was peculiar.

Shen He glanced at them from afar, then turned toward home.

Just then, the small characters on the Survival Guide's panel appeared before him again.

"Gathering in the wild is the most foolish behavior in the apocalypse. I think I see a pile of future monster droppings polluting the land."

Shen He: "..."

He'd come to realize that this Survival Guide was quite sarcastic. Whether it was because it had been unlocked or that was its nature, he wasn't sure.

Back home, Shen He took some bedding from the wardrobe and began making up the bed. Thanks to his mother's foresight, all the bedding had been wrapped in plastic before being stored, so it was still clean enough to last ten days or so.

But the house had no food. If he wanted to eat, he'd have to go to town and buy something.

Luckily, the town now had food delivery services. On his way home, he'd seen a delivery rider on a motorcycle with two little flags, blasting music and happily delivering food.

Perhaps because he'd eaten so much at noon, Shen He wasn't very hungry now.

He began practicing the Eight-level Stance at home.

Around six o'clock, he heard Shen Dali calling from outside, "Brother Shen, come eat at my place!"

Shen He finished his stance, checked his martial arts panel, and saw his progress had gone up another point—now at 69%.

He stepped out, not bothering with formalities, and followed Shen Dali home for dinner. After all, his household registration booklet had only his own page left, and he'd always eaten at Shen Dali's place.

This time, he brought along a bottle of his father's hidden wine—the one meant to be opened for his wedding. Sadly, they'd never gotten to that day.

After dinner, he returned home; it was already past nine. Though reeking of alcohol, Shen He wasn't particularly drunk—he even practiced the stance for another two hours before washing up and going to bed.

Early the next morning, Shen He sat up in bed and yawned.

The Survival Guide's small characters began flashing before him again.

"How can someone your age sleep so soundly?"

"And in these circumstances, sleeping like a well-fed, dead pig. Violates Survival Guide Rule Thirty-Eight: No vigilance whatsoever."

"I'm worried about your future."

"..."

Seeing this, Shen He couldn't help yawning again before checking his task panel.

The timer on Daily Task One had decreased again. Tomorrow morning, he would receive three free attribute points, allowing him to boost one attribute to ten and reach first-tier standard. He would also unlock another daily task slot—a happy occasion.

As for Main Task One and Side Task One, not much had changed. He didn't bother with them.

He shifted his gaze to Daily Task Two, curious what kind of daily tasks would appear now that he was back home.

The next second, his eyes widened.

This task... seemed even more abstract?